Failure
by EbonyKittyCat552
Summary: Vincent contemplates his failures and their ultimate consequences


Um, well... I'm not really sure where this came from

*sigh* I love Vinnie, really I do, but I can't stop writing angst... maybe I can write a post-DoC fic that's not so... so... yeah

Warning: killing, blood, death, mentions of disturbing situations or w/e

Disclaimer: Vincent Valentine and all other FFVII characters belong to Square-Enix and not to me *pout*

* * *

Failure was not something Vincent ever accepted. As a Turk, it was not in his nature to _fail_ at anything. Any mission he was given was to be completed as quickly, efficiently and completely as possible. There was never any "failure" option. Turks who couldn't do their job generally didn't last long in the ruthless pecking order at Shinra Headquarters.

But when he had discovered what Lucrecia had done… the first burning, shameful sensation that had flashed through him was the bite of _failure_. She was his lover—he loved her more than he'd ever cared about anyone in his whole life, which was saying a lot, since Turks generally didn't care for anything or anyone—but somehow he felt as though by allowing her to take this path he had let her down. He had failed to protect her from the corruption that riddled and disfigured this place, this pit of sin that Shinra called the Science Department.

_How could she agree to this?_ He couldn't help but wonder. Did she not love the child within her, though it was spawned by _Hojo?_ Did she not care at all?

More importantly, and at the forefront of his mind, was how he could have missed this, how he could have _allowed this to happen_. To think that the woman he loved was sacrificing an unborn child for the sake of some harebrained scheme of a madman!

Was she being coerced? He was supposed to be protecting her, wasn't he…?

Vincent just… wasn't sure of anything anymore.

* * *

In hindsight, confronting Hojo on the issue had not been the most intelligent thing he had ever done in his life, but Vincent had been incensed, almost mad. How could they do this? How could Lucrecia—sweet, beautiful, kind-hearted Lucrecia—do this? He just didn't understand!

Everything just weighed down on him, like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Cackling echoed in his ears, causing his head to throb painfully even as he went lightheaded. It barely registered in his foggy brain that the sea of crimson that washed over the floor and caused his suit and shirt to stick, plastered to his skin, was his _own_ blood. Pain bubbled up through his abdomen and chest, burning harshly, though it was rivaled by the finality of the hot liquid he laid in, which could have been acid for how it made his skin sizzle with pain. It was a different kind of pain, the final blow to the delusion he'd been allowing himself to live within since he had met this woman. He had forgotten that she, too, was a scientist, one of _these_ people. It was just… she had seemed… different to him somehow… as if she had a spark of compassion that these people lacked.

He really had… loved her…

His pride should have been stung at having been murdered by a meek, gangly man like Hojo, but his last thoughts were not for his death—he wasn't afraid of dying, but rather, of what he was leaving behind.

_The product of my failure…_ He looked up into teary brown eyes, and found that it was enough that, at the very least, she was saddened by his passing.

Hand twitching, he wanted to reach out to her, to tell her… tell her…

But everything faded to black far too fast.

* * *

Vincent wanted to die. He had been so close… so close to joining the Lifestream and escaping from living hell. Instead, he had been thrust into a new, even more twisted one, one where he could hardly even look at himself without feeling shame and horror eat away at his being.

He was a monster.

He was a failure.

_Lucrecia… why couldn't I protect you?_ His blood red gaze lingered on the frozen form, dressed in feathery white, looking like some sort of fallen angel locked into crystal. She was just as beautiful as the day he had met her, just as ethereal, her sweet face smiling gently. He didn't allow her visage to fool him, no matter how _alive_ it looked; Lucrecia Crescent was long dead, dead because he had failed to protect her.

_And look what your failure has caused,_ a voice spat within him, a self-hating, twisted part of himself that enjoyed the torment that could be thrust upon his old mind. _Look what became of your inability to protect her!_

Oh yes, he knew all about that… Sephiroth, Jenova, the Remnants… All of this could have been prevented if he hadn't been such a young, arrogant fool.

_It's your fault. You failed the most important task you were ever given._

How could he have known that such tragedy would result from his misstep? How could anyone have known what was being cooked up in the madhouse that was Hojo's sick mind? But what he couldn't understand was why… why she had done this…

_Why, Lucrecia?_ His eyes did not waver from her glowing face. _Why did you do it? Why couldn't I convince you to change your mind? I don't understand._

However, he was firmly of the belief that whether he understood or not had hardly made a difference in the grand scheme of things. It was far too late to take back what had happened, too late to save all those lives that had been destroyed by one careless mistake, by one foolish action without thought.

_I would give anything to change this,_ he thought suddenly. _I would have given anything to make you happy, if only you would have let me. Then… maybe this would never have happened._

But he didn't delude himself. Snarling, Vincent had the urge to shoot something. What was he doing? He was a monster! There was no need to be sentimental, to think about the past this way. It wasn't as if it could be changed; what was done was done now, and there was no going back.

He left Lucrecia's Cave in a flurry of red and angry frustration. Why did he even bother coming back here time and again? It was always the same self-pitying, pathetic drone _over and over_. Hadn't thirty years in a coffin been enough to atone for this? He had suffered, hadn't he? For his troubles, he wasn't even _human_ anymore. Despite his advanced age, he didn't even look thirty! And Chaos… he didn't want to think about the monsters which were grafted to him, that were a part of him that would never go away. Always, they lingered in the back of his head, tormenting him.

_Have I not suffered enough?_

Deep down, though, he knew that he kept coming back because _no_, he _hadn't_ suffered enough. He could never suffer enough to earn forgiveness for this, for failing to protect the woman he loved. He would never be able to atone for his rash choices or fix what had become of them, no matter how many times the fruit of his failure tried to rip the world apart. All those people… all those lives… gone, ruined, just like that… And the woman he loved… dead and locked away because of the child that he had failed to save and protect from a life as hellish as his own. Vincent shook his head, his heart feeling dead in his chest. Redemption was far beyond his reach.

* * *

Poor Vinnie... he's much too hard on himself sometimes

Ah well... Review if you wish to


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